


If Tomorrow Never Comes

by Neda5555



Category: Glee
Genre: Canonical Character Death - Finn Hudson, F/F, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3186272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neda5555/pseuds/Neda5555
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Finn's death, Santana is starting to reevaluate her life choices, but more specifically, the one she took regarding her love life. She's out to win back one dejected Quinn Fabray, but we know these two girls, and we know nothing is ever easy for these two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If Tomorrow Never Comes

It’s four AM and you can’t sleep. You already ordered a ticket back home, to New York, because that city will become home for you form now on. You can’t stand one fucking second more of the halls of Mckinley high and you just want out. Finn… god… that boy, and that is all he is ever going to be, a fucking boy, you lost your chance with him. You thought, like Sue and Rachel, that you’ll have forever with this boyish giant somewhere orbiting around your life, to make sure he knows how much you appreciate him.

Yes, he pushed you mighty hard out of the flannel closet and yes, it hurt, but at the end of the day, now almost a year later, you know he did you a big ass favor by being the stupid oaf that he was. He threw you out of the closet but he made sure you had a soft landing, rallying up all your glee club friends, whom sang beautiful supporting songs for you, and for the life of you, you will never be able to forget the way Finn made you feel when he sang ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ to you, it was everything.

You’re in constant fucking pain, from the second you found out and up until this very moment, you can’t breathe properly and everything fucking hurts. You had a showdown with Sue, a breakdown in Glee, a heart to heart with Kurt, you went head to head with Puck and you are just fucking done. Rachel is broken beyond belief, you don’t even fucking know how to go there, so you told her you’re there for her and let it rest at that, and if you’re totally honest with yourself, you can’t quite wrap your head around the grieve. You, in your own head, in your own thoughts, just can’t go there, to what it is to lose a lover, to lose your person, to lose your end game. So you just don’t. And it’s great that Rachel opted to stay in Lima a little bit longer, you need out of here, and away from all the grieve and pain that is Lima right now

So, as your parents drop you off at Columbus airport to catch a flight back to New York, you kiss them goodbye and make sure to tell them how much you love them, because Sue can state there isn’t a lesson to learn here until she’s blue in her stupid wrinkly face, but Santana Lopez is anything but stupid, and she will be telling her parents they are everything – You say your goodbyes, board the plane and as your ass hits the seat you finally feel like you can breathe again.

That is before your mind kick starts again and is immediately thrown into over drive.

Your thoughts race to a beautiful, hazel eyed blonde, for the first time these last couple of days and your heart is aching. Since your “two-time-thing” back at Mr. Schue’s non wedding, things have been heavy between the two of you. From sexual tension, to jealousy, to confusion - things were heavy. You two are strong minded individuals and your personalities clash constantly. Power struggles, ego bruising and walls are the way things are, well, were, before Quinn got soft on you.

It was over a month ago now, that after an awesome weekend of sex, alcohol, and post-banging pillow talks up in New Haven with her, she stood at the train platform and told you she wanted more, she wanted commitment, she wanted to give the two of you a real chance at something more than just fucking. She got soft on you. She stood there, honest hazel eyes gleaming in earnest, beautiful and driven as fuck, but you couldn’t.

Butting heads and having angry sex - you fucking excelled in that, Brittany has left enough raw and open wounds for you to know to keep away from feelings, so when Quinn told you she wanted more, she wanted honesty, she wanted to give the two of you a real chance, you shut her out. You were nothing but honest with her when you told her you just weren’t ready yet to put your heart out there again, and Quinn, well, she shut you out ten fold. This was over a month ago and you hadn’t heard from her since, and you miss her like fucking crazy, you miss her raspy voice, you miss her smart text messages and random emails, you miss the intellectual challenge that is Quinn Fabray, and honestly, you just fucking miss all of her.

You opted to give her space, let her cool down a bit, so after not getting you’re your multiple SMS messages answered, calls declined, and e-mails ignored – you just decided to let her have some space. Because you figured, hell, we have all the fucking time in the world to sort this shit out, right?

It’s two hours into the flight and you don’t know what went wrong, but your defense mechanism you had going on since you learnt about Finn’s death, is, in a lack of a better word, demolished. You can feel your thoughts swaying in to that place, and It finally sinks in that Rachel has lost her person, her endgame, her happy ending, and she never fucking got a chance to tell him how she felt. She will never get to marry him, have kids with him, she will never get to feel his bare skin against her bare skin, she will never get the chance to tell him how much she loved him.

This realization hit’s you so hard you feel as if all the air has been sucked out of your lungs, this hits so close to home because you suddenly realize that shit, if this stupid plane crashes now, Quinn will never fucking know how you really feel about her, because she put her heart out there and you fucking shut yours away behind old wounds and bolted doors because you are such, a fucking, pussy. Life is so fucking short, and nothing is fucking guaranteed and you are fucking around wasting your time on earth while you have a chance for fucking happiness.

You shouldn’t give her fucking space to figure shit out, you should have been knocking on her Yale dorm room door weeks ago, manning up and giving it a fucking chance because life is too short.

You rest your forehead against the window and you try to cool yourself down, you try to formulate a way to make this better, to learn the fucking lesson, because there is one; life. is. too. damn. short. You try to think how to get to Quinn, what’s the best way, metro perhaps? Another flight? Rent a Car? You are so fucking restless, so in the spirit of “life is too short” you make a decision to pay the ridiculous amount of money that is asked of you and you purchase WiFi connection 30,000 feet up in the air. After cussing and swearing up and down you find out that a flight from New York to New Haven is fucking stupid, with three stops and eight hours from plane to plane and you opt for the Metro North instead.

It’s fucking eight PM when you land yourself at Union Station in New Haven and you are completely out of your fucking sorts. Your fucking goddamn phone is dead, you are dead on your feet because you’ve been up for well over thirty hours, and you don’t even know where Quinn is. In your stupid state of Carpe - fucking - diem you didn’t even get your shit together enough to call or her text her, so in this fucking cold October night your dragging your suitcase along the chilly streets of New Haven.

You make your way to her dorms on York Street, like you have a couple times before, and your praying to god that someone will let you in the residential area. The folks at Yale are nothing short of Fort Knoxing their students’ asses, which most of the time you are grateful for, but not tonight, not when Quinn isn’t here to let you in with her ID card. So the main gate is a no brainer because people go in and out all the time, but begging people to let you in to her building is wearing your nearly there patience fucking thin.

Thirty minutes later you find yourself sitting outside of Quinn’s suite, yes, suite, because she’s a fucking princes and needs to live alone, and you are waiting for her to come back from wherever the fuck she is, and somewhere in the back of your brain you remember that Sam said something about finals and that’s why she didn’t even come to Lima.

You have been in work mood ever since you got off your flight in New York so you haven’t really let things sink in yet. You aren’t even sure what you fucking want to say to her, only that you fucking have to say something, and you’re hoping it’s not too late, that she hasn’t given up on you, on the both of you. You are so fucking exhausted, and sad, and anxious, and you feel the tears falling freely down your face and you can’t fucking stop them, the feeling is something akin to the feelings you have when your drunk and you lose control.

Everything is hurting, your body, your heart, your mind… it’s all just too much, Finn is dead, Rachel is barely holding herself together, you’re a fucking mess and Quinn is nowhere to be found so you just slump down against the wall and bawl your fucking eyes out. You don’t know how to process all the shit that you’re feeling, you are so fucking overwhelmed by it all, you’re in complete anguish, but then you hear a gasp from down the hall and you know it’s Quinn even without looking.

Two firm hands pull you up to your feet and into a warm embrace and you nothing short of melt into her body.

“Santana, honey, what are you doing here?” She’s worried, her voice is frantic, she is hugging you closely to her body and you burrow your tear stricken face into her neck and hold her as tightly as you can, as if this would make anything better, as if this will change anything. You know it won’t and you know you need to get your shit together and talk, so you give it a try.

“I…I… I’m so sorry Quinn!” and well, you tried, but it comes out as a fucking mopey whine and you pull back and try to wipe the tears away to see her face, to tell her what you want to say, whatever it is you aren’t actually sure but your winging it. She places her hands on your cheeks and her hazel eyes are searching your face for god knows what, before she places a soft kiss against your cheek and shows you inside her room.

You shuffle inside her room and you drag your suitcase inside and plop down on the closest thing you can find- her couch. She’s regarding you with some sort of cross between guarded and worried and you know you need to say something because you don’t want to worry her and you’re sure you look like shit.

She confirms just as much.

"You look like shit Santana, what are you doing here? Why didn’t you call me?” She asks you a little harshly but then softens her tone a notch. “Is this about Finn? Do you want me to make you some coffee and we can talk about it?"

You gently shake your head at her, but then nod, but then just slap a hand against your forehead because you can’t communicate like a human being right now.

“I’m sorry I’m just so… there’s so much… my battery died on the way… and Finn, and Rachel… and life is so short!” And with that you jump to your feet and close the distance between you, and grab a shell shocked Quinn by her shoulders. You know you aren’t explaining shit, and that you’re all over the fucking place, so you roll your eyes at yourself and take a deep breath.

Quinn is still regarding you patiently, waiting for you to get your thoughts together, though yet again, you get side tracked because shit, she is so close to you, she’s beautiful, the smell of her perfume is intoxicating your senses, so you close your eyes to reel in the horny teenager within you, and try to pull your shit together.

You open your eyes and are met with blazing hazel eyes and you know Quinn is feeling it too, that pull, and she gently tugs you into her body by your waist and your bodies are flush against one another, her tongue slowly pokes beyond those luscious, full, inviting lips and sweep deliciously across her lower one. You really, for the life of you, can not hold in the whimper going on moan that escapes your mouth because shit, your heart and lady parts are exploding with want and love and you want her.

“If I take you to bed now, and fuck you into oblivion, will we be able to have this talk later? Or should I wait for you to find your tongue again?” Her voice is like liquid sex, husky and seductive and you have to fight the urge to just melt in to a puddle of mush and sexual frustration just from that one sentence.

And you know this is so typical of the both of you, fucking your problems away, you know that taking her up on that offer will not be any good, but honestly, you are so happy to see her, and so happy you still have this affect on her, that you throw speeches and heart felt confessions out the window, because this is how you two operate the best, you fuck the pain away, and hopefully you both get out on the other side unharmed.

So without further ado, you weave your fingers into her beautiful blonde hair and crash your lips against hers, she promptly tightens her grip around your waist and kisses you back with fervor, and the feeling of her lips against yours, her hands tugging at the hem of your shirt, the way she playfully nips at your lower lips, it makes all the blood in your body rush south and your kisses grow sloppier with desperation.

You shove her coat off her shoulders as you start backing her up towards her bedroom, and it’s curious how easily this comes to the both of you, as if you’re practiced lovers that have been in this situation many times before, when in reality this is your third time here in New Haven, but yeah, there is definitely something to be said about how easy this is.

You deepen the kiss as you both topple over into her bed, you straddle her thighs and shove your coat off. You look down at her and she’s already making quick work of opening her cardigan and pulling off her shirt, her chest is heaving slightly and you just sit there and take her in.

She catches your eyes trained on her while she’s struggling with her bra and she arches a perfect eye brow your way.

"Can I help you with something?"

And she’s teasing, and she’s smiling, and your completely overwhelmed by how light hearted she is with you, so you lean down and kiss her, it’s not forceful and it isn’t probing, it’s gentle and you’re cradling her face between your hands and you can tell she’s not happy with this change of pace but you tilt your head and push your lips firmly against hers, trying to convey without words that you don’t need her to fuck your minds out, you just want to feel her, to love her.

She pushes at your chest lightly and you pull back just enough to let her pull free of her bra and the she’s pulling you in again, but she isn’t having any of your gentleness apparently, because she’s tugging off your blouse and she is anything but gentle, lips hungrily kissing and nipping against yours, delving her tongue in to the depths of your mouth, she eagerly strips you down to your skirt and she pulls you flush against her body, her nipples hard and probing against yours, you can’t help but moan at that, feeling her body so hot and so eager for you, it’s astounding.

Her hands are running up and down your back as you continue kissing her, she opens her legs and you slip into place between them, loving the closeness it creates between the both of you. Before your foggy, lust filled mind can comprehend what’s going on, she shifts her weight and flips you over so you find yourself flat on your back, both your hands above your head clasped in one of hers, and a dangerously turned on Quinn looming over you. She searches your eyes for what seems like forever before she yanks your skirt up with her free hand exposing your thong clad center to her.

She firmly cups you through your thong and she lets out a puff of air, gently shaking her head. You see her gaze darken and she nearly sneers at you.

"Look at that, so fucking hot and ready, I didn’t even do anything yet."

You can see the lust and light-heartiness shifting in to anger, her eyebrows lower and slant inwards, her mouth pursing into a thin line, her jaw thrusts forward and her nostrils are kind of flaring, and you know, you just know she’s gonna go to town on you, because this is classical crazy-angry-Quinn, you can see how all the hurt and frustration catches up to her, and a second later she tears the thong off your body and there’s nothing you can do but gasp. She’s staring right into your eyes and she’s furiously rubbing your clit that is absolutely throbbing beneath her touch, and you can’t look away from her infuriated gaze.

She starts running her fingers up and down your swollen folds and you can feel how wet you are, and you’re enjoying this so much, because yeah, she might be angry with you but she still touching you, still fucking you, still looking deeply in to your eyes, and she isn’t shutting you out anymore, and just as that thought enters your mind she thrusts in to you with two fingers and you arch up into her, struggling to free your hands and touch her.

"This is what you want isn’t it? For me to fuck you like it doesn’t mean anything?”

You whimper and shake your head, eyes wide and mouth agape because you can’t answer her with what she’s doing between your legs, she pounding into you with two fingers and it’s all you can do to not come then and there.

"Is this eye contact too much for you Santana? Are there too much feelings this way Santana?” And the way her lips curl around your name, it seems like it’s in disgust, so you shake your head and struggle against her once again and try to break free from her.

You want to hold her, to kiss her, to try and tell her that this eye contact is everything you want, that she is everything you want, but she borrows her face into your neck and bites down hard. She mounts your thigh, still wearing her tights, and basically dry humps your leg with the rhythm of her thrusting fingers. 

You feel tears gather in your eyes because this isn’t want you want, you crave to see those beautiful hazel eyes, you want her to do this with you, not to you.

After you understand that you can’t break free of her grasp you change tactics; you thrust your thigh up in between Quinn’s legs in a way you know will be painful but you need her to calm the fuck down.

She arches off and away from you with a small “oof" and you quickly free your hands from her grip. Her face is still tucked between your neck and your shoulder and her hand is still delving in and out of your wet heat, and you need her to fucking stop and look at you.

You clutch your now free hand in her hair and tug her face away from your neck and with your other hand you clasp her wrist and stop its erratic movements, and when you lock gazes with her you realize she’s crying, her face now is nothing but pure agony, so you gently run your fingers through her hair and loosen the tight grasp you have on her wrist, you gently trace her beautiful face and try to brush away her tears but to no avail, the tears keep running down her face and her lips are trembling.

"Baby…."

You aren’t even sure how this soft plea left your lips, you don’t even understand what this girl has done to you, how she tapped in to your most inner goodness and tenderness and let it out of you like this. Seeing Quinn crying is the most devastating thing because you know how strong she is. 

She shakes her head and screws her eyes shut, shying away from you, but you won’t let her.

"Look at me, please…"

And there it is again, this gentle plea, the way you address her in reverence. She opens her eyes and looks at you, her fingers still buried deep within you, but she’s shaking with the force of her sobs so you pry her fingers out of you, and pull her hand up to your chest, just above your beating heart and let her lay her soaking fingers there. You take a deep breath and through your own tears you stare deeply into her eyes and softly cup her cheek.

"I’m sorry, Quinn, for being such a fucking coward."

You lean up and gently place a small kiss against her salty cheek.

"I don’t want you to just fuck me, and I don’t want to just fuck you … don’t know if that was ever all I wanted from you.”

You lean up again and kiss her other cheek. Your voice is hoarse, wobbly at best, but you soldier on.

"You mean everything to me."

You search her eyes for understanding, and lean up and kiss her chin.

"If you still want to try, I’m in, and I’m sorry for…"

But you never get to finish that sentence because salty, soft lips push gently against yours and she’s kissing you delicately. You rearrange yourself in a way that you end up wrapping her nimble upper body up in your arms and you feel nothing but pure bliss. She is leaning both of her palms against your chest now and she is kissing you so gently it makes your head dizzy.

She pulls back and stares at you intently, her eyes roaming your face and her lips are tugged up a bit in one edge and she is absolutely endearing with that little smirk on her face. She looks down your bodies and a small blush blooms across her ivory skin and she lets out a small chuckle and gets off of you.

"We didn’t even take off our shoes." She shakes her head with a gentle smile adorning her pretty face, and makes quick work of your knee high Stiletto boots and your skirt, then does the same to her white and brown oxfords, her tights and boy shorts, and then she joins you back in bed.

She lies on her back and pulls you into her, kissing the top of your head and it seems like she’s holding you as close as she can manage to her body. Your legs intertwine and you lay your head on her bare chest, enjoying the sound of her heart beating steadily under your ear. She takes in a deep breath and tells you quietly that she missed you.

"You could have picked up your damn phone if you missed me, bitch." Your answer is muffled against her soft skin and it holds absolutely no malice at all, so she swats your ass playfully and chuckles, not taking any offence to you being, well, you.

You feel all the adrenaline leave your body as you slowly sink in to her body and let the feeling of serenity and tranquility take over you, you let the feeling of safety wrap around your tired limbs and succumb to sleep, knowing you aren’t done winning over Quinn, you aren’t done crying over the loss of Finn and that you aren’t done figuring out all the crazy shit that is going on in your life – But for tonight, you did your best, and before you completely black out you feel Quinn press a lingering kiss against your temple – and you know that for today at least, you did well.


	2. Today (is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You are so beautiful, Quinn," and your voice is merely above a whisper as you grab her chin lightly and press a fleeting kiss to her lips (just because you can), "I know that most times words fail me, but can I please show you how much I care," you place another kiss, that lingers longer this time, "in the way I know best?"

You wake up when you feel soft kisses being pressed gently against your neck, you try opening your eyes but you are still so freaking tired you forgo the idea all together and just tighten your grip around the warm body that is perfectly fitted against yours.

The kisses are trailing slowly up to your jaw, to your chin then to your cheek and then they cease all together. The warmth of the body that was keeping you so perfectly warm is seeping away and that is enough incentive to crack half an eye open.

Quinn is looking down at you fondly; her hair is all shaggy and sticking out in the goofiest way and her eyes slightly droopy with sleep.

“What’re ya doin’?” you manage to mumble against the heavy cob webs of sleep that are still very much present.

She chuckles lightly and presses a long kiss to your cheek before answering, “I have a study group in twenty minutes, I’ll be back around noon and we can go grab some lunch?”

“No,” you pull her into you and squeeze her against your chest as much as you can in your quasi half-awake state. You close your eyes and you are totally prepared to go back to sleep but Quinn has other plans, apparently.

She maneuvers her way out of your embrace and with another kiss to your cheek rolls out of bed. You can’t help but groan at the loss of warmth and comfort she left in her wake, and even though you aren’t totally awake you can sure feel yourself pouting.

“Stop pouting Santana, go back to sleep I’ll be back soon, help yourself to whatever you can find in here.”

And you want to protest and argue and tell her to come back to bed, but the sounds of her getting ready drifts into your thoughts and obscures in your mind in a hazy kind of blur and the next thing you know you’re waking up and it’s eleven in the morning, and you are literally shaking from the cold in the room.

The room is dimly lit and it strikes you as odd considering the time of day, but a quick peak towards the window reveals a very dreary day, heavy gray clouds are stretched over New Haven and that reminds you that you're freezing your ass off.

When you sit up, it's under substantial protest, because your muscles are aching, and although you feel mostly well rested after about twelve hours of sleep, you're sure a nice warm shower will make everything better and will give you a nice start to the day ahead, that honestly, knowing Quinn and yourself, has the potential to go completely haywire.

You shuffle out of bed with the duvet wrapped tightly around your shivering form in a futile attempt at warding the cold away and head into the in-suite bathroom in search of a towel. You are pleasantly surprised when you find a fluffy red towel and a matching bath robe waiting on the sink for you, because last time you were here with Quinn you were bitching and moaning about not having your own towel, and you vaguely remember badgering Quinn about her lack of hospitality.

Even though you haven't spoken since your last visit, well up until yesterday night that is, she still went out and bought you this beautiful set (in your favorite colour mind you), and that really hurt your heart because goddamit, this must have been painful for her. Was she sad when she bought these for you? Or was she so confident in the two of you and knew you would come back eventually?

Shit, she is such a fucking sweetheart under all her bravado and walls and shields, and you got a glimpse of that last night when she broke down in tears, when she was vulnerable and open and honest. That was one way of her being beautiful, and this little gesture was another.

And yeah, you totally do not deserve the beautiful soul that is Quinn Fabray.   
But hey, you're fucking willing to fight for her, for a chance – And you will be doing so in tandem because yesterday night was a start, but it really wasn't enough.

You dump the duvet outside the bathroom and turn the shower on to the hottest it can get and jump in. The second the water hits your shivering body you can feel yourself relax, your shoulders slump down easily when you arch back into the steaming water and feel the water cascade smoothly through your hair and down your back.

You take a minute to just bask in the warmth and sereneness of the moment, and you seem to relax further more. You go through the notions of lathering shampoo into your hair, that honestly, what a fucking slob even are you? You have been through flights and trains and wind and nearly got the orgasm of your life yesterday – But never even got yourself cleaned up before falling asleep in Quinn's arms last night.

That must be some kind of testimony to how much she cares for you if she let that one slide and didn't kick you out of her bed to take a shower, and the thought of that makes you smile.

\\\

You cranked up the heat in the dorm room the second you got out of the shower, the red robe snug around your body – and after sifting through your luggage, putting on Quinn's black Yale hoodie, slipping into a pair of your favorite black boy shorts, throwing up your hair into a messy bun- because you do not have the fucking patience to straighten out your hair right now, plugging in your iPhone to a charger Quinn left for you, making yourself a decent cup of coffee – You are now sitting on the couch and quite fruitlessly trying to placate your mom.

"Mami, I'm sorry I forgot my charger I never meant to make you guys worry!" 

"But you did mija! Por favor don't do anything like that again! I was picturing you lying in some dark ally in New York city ay dios mio!"

You roll your eyes at that, and you are internally giddy that she isn't in the same room as you because you would be getting smacked for that eye roll.

"Mom, honestly, I'm sorry, I won't do it again and I'm more than alright – I'm at Quinn's right now and we're going to grab lunch soon, so no need to worry okay?"

Your mom is deadly silent for a moment and you can easily predict the next words out of her mouth and the teasing tone.

"Oh, I see. Is this a date, finally? Because it's about time, querida."

You flush instantly because shit, although you love telling your mom everything that goes on with you, it is still a little weird talking to her about your love life, but still, at the same time, she does really seem to know what's best for you, so you fight your growing embarrassment and plow on.

"Not really like a date date, but if all goes well I hope to be taking her out on an official date very soon."

This time when she answers you there is no teasing tone there between her words, but pure affection and fondness when she reminds you gently to just be yourself- honest, strong and beautiful. You say your goodbye's and you allow yourself to sit back and relax.

The dormitories are hella quiet and that sooths you further.

But honestly, you are a little worried about Quinn and in what state she will be when she returns from her study group. She has the tendency of shutting the world out when she feels like she might get hurt (not unlike yourself, really), and you need to prepare yourself for that sort of behavior. 

You two, in all candor, can get explosive. While you both might want to be sweethearts and all lovey dovey, it's more probable for you two to end up spewing hateful words and touching sore subjects that will eventually lead to one of you bitch slapping the other, and you really, really, don't want that to happen. 

You can't predict or control how on edge Quinn is going to get, so you have to get a grip of yourself and your nerves and get your head on straight. So you whip out your phone and open up the Notes app, and gingerly start writing down pointers for your upcoming conversation with Quinn. Yes, you know this is an oddly Rachel Berry thing to do, but this is all about you going against your most basic instincts of being an asshole so, yeah. Whatever.

Just as you finish writing down your final point the door to the room opens slowly and Quinn's head is peaking inside, when she sees you are awake she straightens and walks in, head held high and arms tightly gripping her laptop against her chest.

You smile at her from your position on her couch and she merely purses her lips.

Well, alrighty then. Guards are up, bridges folded and Quinn is ready to fight.  
Your smile doesn't falter as you put down your phone and your lukewarm coffee and make your way over to where Quinn is standing rigidly by the door. You step right up to her and ease her laptop out of her arms and place it gently on the stand next to the door.

She reluctantly lets you drag her by the hand to sit down on the couch. You keep your distance from her and wait to see if she has something to say. She cuts her eyes down to your bare thighs and she flushes quiet prettily and you obviously have to smile at that because damn, you're honestly too hot for your own good sometimes.

You grin at her when she finally meets your eyes and her blush shoots right up to the tip of her ears. You wink at her and laugh when she gently swats at your shoulder and looks away, but you don't miss the way her lips curl up a bit on the edges.

She clears her throat and gets up from the couch, "Go get dressed so we can get out of here and talk". You silently comply and ten minutes later you're standing by the door fully dressed and ready to go.

The silence between the two of you is thick and uncomfortable and you can't find anything to say that isn't in the pointers you wrote down earlier, and that shit is heavy, but you can't let her walk out the door like this. She is walking past you rigidly and before she opens the door you spin her around and push her back lightly against it.

She doesn't seem upset or too tightly wound up when you study her, but the walls are definitely intact, so you lean in and kiss her gently. You know this won't solve anything, but you are trying to reassure her. She cups your cheek lightly with on hand and places the other on your shoulder while kissing you back, her sweet lips sliding delightfully against yours. 

She gradually relaxes into the kiss and when you pull back she seems to be in a better mood than before.

"Relax Q, we aren't going to war, we're going to talk things out like the awesome, kick-ass adults we are, and then we are coming back here and we will both give one another our grossly overdue orgasms and everything is going to be fine. Si?"

She smiles genuinely at that, and all the way to her favorite restaurant you walk closely to her as she tells you about her study group and fills you in on all the happenings in the Yale School of Drama.

\\\

Claire's Corner Copia is a small Jewish, kosher, vegetarian, vegan and fucking Mexican hole in the wall restaurant near the old campus. You've been there a few times beforehand and you poked fun of Quinn and told her Berry's been rubbing off on her, not leaving out the innuendo of course, but for reals, the place isn't that bad.

You sit at a table near the back of the restaurant and she orders a soy bacon BLT and you order the Burger Fra Diavolo, because if you can't have real fucking meat the least you can do is order something spicy as fuck.

After a few moments of achingly awkward silence, you pull out the points you wrote down earlier and search for something to open this conversation with.

Quinn startles you when she snatches the iPhone out of your hand and literally fucking growls at you, "Is this your fucking idea of talking like two adults Santana?" 

Before you can protest she looks down at your phone and scrolls down the points you've written down.

"What the fuck is this? 'Finn', 'Brittany', 'long distance', 'Rachel'? What am I even looking at?" She looks genuinely confused and now it's your turn to furiously blush as you claw the phone back from her.

"it's none of you god damn…" you start saying but stop yourself, you take a deep breath and meet her gaze, "I wrote down a few points we might want to talk about, and they are all fucking valid points."

She lets out a snort that is really not at all lady like, and shakes her head.

"Why the hell is Rachel one of your points?" And well, it seem like you need to just jump right into it.

"I want to make sure there aren't any lingering-repressed-feelings there, you know, bathroom meetings, face slapping, boyfriend stealing sexual tension still lingering in the air."

Quinn looks scandalised.

"Are you delusional Santana? She just lost her fiancé, and that aside, I have no idea what you are talking about." She folds her arms across her chest and stares out the window. Your heart falls a bit at the mention of Finn, but you soldier on anyway.

"Quinn for fucks sake, do you think I'm not the master of all things lesbian subtext? I can write a fucking column on you two for After Ellen with all the lezzy in the air between you! And if you want this to work, you are going to have to be honest with me, like I am willing to be with you." She looks at you now with eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

"So if you're willing to be honest, why don't we talk about Brittany, shall we?"

"Alright we can do that," you take a deep breath and prepare yourself for some truthing, "Brittany was my first love and my best friend, I will always love her in some way and there is no point in denying that.

With that said, Brittany and I, we are better off as friends, close friends, but that is all. Yes, I was heartbroken for a while and I wasn't ready to move on, but I am now."

You reach out for her hand and she timidly lets you intertwine your fingers.

"When you were brave enough to open up to me, I wasn't there yet, or maybe I was, but I was still so fucking terrified, Quinn. I was terrified of getting my heart broken and fuck, I'm still fucking petrified, but all the Finn fiasco kicked me in to gear in some way."

"How do I know this isn't some grieving process you are going through and once it's over you won't walk away?" She doesn't meet your eyes when she asks that so you squeeze her fingers lightly and wait until she makes eye contact again. 

"I can't make any grand promises right now, but I can tell you I was sitting in that stupid plane on the flight back to New York, and the only thing I thought about was that if that plane crashes I'm not ready to die without you knowing how much I feel for you, without you knowing how much I'm willing to fight for you, without you knowing how much I want everything and anything you are willing to give me. I wasn't thinking about Brittany, I wasn't thinking about any other person, only you."

That admission seems to catch you both off guard because it is so honest, and true, and generally something that is so out of your comfort zone to say out loud.

"You are going to hurt me," is her hesitant reply and you close your eyes tightly at that, because yeah, you probably are.

"And you are going to hurt me too, Q." She starts to protest but all protests die down when the food arrives. You don't even glance at your waiter or at the food, eyes firmly locked on Quinn as she thanks the waiter and looks back at you when he leaves.

"You don't know that S…" and yeah, this sort of raises your hackles but you try and rein it in. 

"How is it possible that after all the shit you've been through you still are so fucking naïve? Of course I'll hurt you and of course you'll hurt me, the both of us are fucking raging bitches most of the time with heaps of angst and insecurities, this probably won't be us sitting around a campfire and singing fucking kumbaya, holding hands and eating vegan smores!"

She looks slightly amused but she isn't contradicting what you said and seems to be mulling it over.

"So, you can't promise not to hurt me, because you probably will. This is going to be hard, isn't it?" She bites into her sandwich as she waits for your answer.

"Yes, yes it is. But I'm willing to not give this up, and fight for this, distance, ex-lovers, potential-might-have-been lovers and all."

"Oh my God Santana give it a rest already," she sounds a tad exasperated but you don't mind, as long as she's talking "But if we're on the topic, what about you and Rachel?"

And yeah, you did not see that coming and you choke on a bit of spicy faux burger and eye her incredulously.

"The fuck you talking 'bout Q? For reals, you've lost your damn mind."

She chuckles at that, and even though she has yet to address the heavy topics you are willing to humor her.

"You can't honestly tell me there isn't at least some sexual tension there?"

She's playing with you, you can see that because she has that glint in her eyes and you know that you worked through some of her guards by this point.

"Oh, is that right? You down for a menage a trois? Kinky," you wink at her and she laughs whole heartedly and butterflies burst in your chest and yeah, this is the real deal.

"But no seriously, Berry is great, hot as fuck and I would definitely tap that, but I'm a one woman kind of girl Q," you give her another wink for good measure.  
"And anyway, this new found closeness with Berry only benefits you really, because she's teaching me, in her annoyingly show tune kind of way, how to talk about shit and open up, I even wrote down fucking points for this talk! That's legit all her influence."

"So, I shouldn't be worried about other girls?" 

"Jesus Quinn, how can you be so insecure about your self-worth when you are so fucking outstanding?"

She lowers her eyes down to her plate at that comment and pushes around her side salad a bit before answering.

"We haven't had the best track record Santana, only a few months ago you turned me down flat, that isn't something easily forgotten. You are changing the game rules right now and it's going to take a bit of time to for me to adjust."  
And yeah, she is being painfully sincere and vulnerable in Quinn terms and god, you love this.

"I know, and I'm sorry, I'm honestly sorry for hurting your feelings, but I'm glad we're here now."

You reach out for her hand again and lift it to your waiting lips and place a small kiss on the back of her hand.

"I'm glad we're here now because I feel like I can give you more now than I could back then, like I can give you all you deserve, and even though I'll probably fall short because I really feel like even now I'm reaching my limit of 'talking about feelings' crap, I'll do my best to be honest, giving and truthful with you."

She leans over the table and pulls you in for a gentle kiss, when she sits back she's smiling at you, "Do you have any expectations of me?"

And you really need to think about this, because, sure you do, but you want to get this out right. You wait before replying and you take stock of the situation for a second. Your hands are entwined together in the middle of the table, in broad fucking day light in the middle of New Haven and it's like you are the only two people in the world right now.

And you are perfectly, perfectly content this way. Not hiding. Not running. Dealing.

"I expect honesty, I expect you to not fuck other people, I expect you to not give up on me when I'm being an asshole, I expect amazingly kinky sex with toys and blindfolds but also sweet lady kisses and love making, I expect you to not want to bone the Hobbit and I expect you to communicate with me through words and dialogue even when it's much easier to fuck our problems away.  
But my biggest expectation is that you will give us a chance to grow together, and by that I mean that you'll let me take you out on a date so we can make this beautiful hotness that is you and me official."

Her face morphs into so many different expressions during your little impromptu speech and you are sure you didn't manage to catch even half of it, but now her eyes are sort of shimmering and her bottom lip is tucked tightly under her white teeth and she is obviously over whelmed. 

You are trying your goddamn best not to lose your cool because she is taking her sweet fucking time to accept your round-about date invitation.

She studies your face attentively, "You want to go out on a real date with me?" 

You nod.

"And you want to make us… what, official? Like… like girlfriends?"

You nod again because you are too fucking nervous to use words, you feel like you used your daily limit anyway and it was all spent on nice words but hey, Quinn is worth it.

"I don't have feelings for Rachel, I might have had some back in high school, but that is long gone by now."

And yeah, honesty suites her beautifully. 

You still smile a little smugly at that because yo, your gay-dar is fucking on point. You flash her a nervous smile and prompt her to continue with a little head tilt, and wait to see what else she has to say.

"I'm not easy to be with Santana," she looks a bit uncertain so you cut in. 

"Well duh, I think after knowing you for like six years I kind of figured that out already tubbers. I know about Lucy even though I never got to meet her, I knew you as head cheerleader, as preggers, as skank, as wheels…. I was there Quinn. Through the entire shit storm that was you growing up, I was there. Not as much as I wish I was, but I know you Quinn, the good and the bad."

Her eyes instantly brim with tears and she pulls her hand back to lightly brush them away.

"Let's get out of here Q, you don't have to give me any answers now, we both know you deserve all the time you need to think this over."

She nods and gets up, you walk together to the cashier, you end up paying because she doesn't seem to be in the mood to fight you on it when you offer and you walk out to the gloomy streets of New Haven.

You experimentally reach out for her hand and you feel warm all over when she pulls you into her side and wraps an arm around your waist.

You don't speak at all when you walk together back to her dorm room and you both seem to be lost in thought.

When you enter her room again you both discard your shoes and coats and sprawl out on opposite sides of the couch. 

"How long are you going to be here for?"

And her voice is so small and it bothers you that you are the reason for it.

"For as long as you'll have me. The wonder twins aren't coming back to New York anytime soon, and even if they were… I possibly may have missed you and I may or may not want to stay here as long as possible."

She seems to like your answer because when she replies her voice is stronger and she nudges your thigh with her toes. 

"You're cute. Do you want to change into pajamas and binge watch Orange is the New Black in bed?"

You chuckle lightly because man, how did she not find out she was gay earlier? 

"It depends."

She looks over at you with a soft smile and arches her famous Fabray eye brow.

"Do I get to wear your black Yale hoodie and do we get our cuddle on?”

\\\

Half way through the second episode of the first season you already lose all interest in the show.

You are highly distracted by Quinn's fingers running lightly over your belly under your sweatshirt and her bare legs tangled with yours under the covers.

You are sitting against the beds headboard while Quinn's head is resting lightly on your chest. You have one arm wrapped around her waist and you are holding her comfortably against you while the other is resting languidly on the bed.

Her touch does things to your lady parts and you can feel your nipples tighten but you try to rein it in because you don't want to pressure Quinn or anything.  
Her fingers start to roam lower and lightly tease the edge of your boy shorts and fuck, what the hell is she playing at? You glance down and search for her eyes but she seems to be totally engrossed in whatever was happening on her laptop right now.

You shift your legs slightly and lower yourself in a way that Quinn's bare thigh is dangerously close to the apex of your thighs and that was the wrong fucking thing to do since you really just want to shove her hand down your boy shorts and rub down on her thigh and this line of thought isn't helping your situation at all and… 

All thoughts fly right out the window when Quinn shifts slightly and snaps the hem of your panties and looks up at you.

"Are you hot and bothered, baby?"

And for fucks sake, her hazel eyes are positively blazing and her nails are digging lightly in to your belly and you really, really just want her to take you in any way she fucking pleases. 

The only sound you manage to produce is a strangled whine and you clasp your hand around one of hers and squeeze it over your stomach, not daring to push it down under your panties like you really want to.

She chuckles throatily and shifts into you, her lips are brushing the side of your neck and her thigh is inching higher in to your now positively throbbing center.  
Her voice is so deep with want you nearly come right on the spot, "I do believe there was some talk about impending orgasms?" 

You run your hand up into the hair on the back of her head and tug her gently to meet your lips in a soft kiss, Orange is the New Black all but forgotten at this point in time, and as you continue pushing light, gentle kisses against her soft lips you pull her up to your lap, so she is sitting astride your bare thighs. 

Her arms wrap around your neck as you pull her closer to your body and deepen the kiss, craning your neck a bit in order to meet her lips as you, in turn, wrap her arms around her limber midriff and feel her melt into your touch.

You part your lips from her and trace her beautiful pale face with your fingertips. Her chest is rising and falling slowly, almost in a shallow manner, as she studies you. Your eyes connect and you hope she sees past the lust in your eyes, and sees the love and awe there too as you regard her with complete and utter adoration.

You run your fingers lightly over her golden eye brows, down the bridge of her nose, over her lightly pink tinged cheeks, and finally you skim your fingers slightly over her now wet and slightly puffy lips. 

"You are so beautiful, Quinn," and your voice is merely above a whisper as you grab her chin lightly and press a fleeting kiss to her lips (just because you can), "I know that most times words fail me, but can I please show you how much I care," you place another kiss, that lingers longer this time, "in the way I know best?"

She doesn't smile and doesn't say a word, just searches your eyes for god knows what. You are waiting for her with bated breath; you want her approval, you want her permission to lavish her with kisses and attention, you want to worship her, to cherish her, to make her feel wanted and beautiful.   
You don't know what she saw in your eyes that made her oblige to you less than perfect offer to show her some good ol' Santana Lopez loving, but she pulls you into a kiss and nods her consent into it.

You take your time with her and with the kiss, even though you want to absolutely ravish her and fuck her into oblivion, you opt on going slow and deep, your kiss is all tongue and soft moans, and although your tongue is sliding smoothly and rowdily against hers – It is still all so fucking gentle.

You slip your hands under her hoodie and start dragging it slowly up her torso, and then disconnect the kiss as you pull it over her head and toss it aside, eyes firmly fixed on her unclothed chest. Her hands are gripping tightly at your hips as your eyes continue to roam her almost naked body.

You know being exposed like this is never easy for her. She harbors insecurities about her body that date back to giving birth to Beth and surviving a horrific car crash back in high-school. Her insecurities stem from a few small silvers of skin that are lightly marred with small scars and nearly imperceptible stretch marks.

But you want to make it better.

Though you've never done this before; mainly due to the fact that you've only just fucked as opposed to making love up until this very special occasion, so you make sure to take the time and kiss all the parts of her that she condemns as unlovable, unattractive and unworthy. 

You also hope that one day you will get to kiss the parts of her soul that she condemns as all the aforementioned. 

You place your hands on her ribcage and place a lingering kiss against the scar on her left shoulder, and she trembles beneath your touch, and your chest tightens because obviously you failed her in never doing this before, by never assuring her before how lovely and loveable she really is, but you are doing it now, you are making it better now and that has to count for something.

You lean down and place another lingering kiss on the side of her right breast were she has an assortment of nearly invisible stretch marks and you both know there isn't anything sexual about it, albeit the very strategic placing, and she lets out a small whimper so you pull back immediately and her eyes are filled to the brim with tears, and fuck, your heart is shattering.

"No, no ,no Quinn please don't cry!" and you are panicking a bit, you weren't trying to make her feel bad, "You are beautiful, all parts of you, please don't cry!" You frame her face with both her hands and stroke away the tears that are sliding out of her eyes, "I'm so sorry I didn't mean to make this worse, I just wanted to make you see…" and you trail off hopelessly.

She is shaking her head now and laughing although tears are streaming down her face, "God Santana…" She leans forward and hugs you tightly to her, burying her face in the crook of your neck, "I never knew you had this in you…" you tighten your grip around her, and your hands skim over her lightly scarred back, her lovely, lovable, scarred back.

"I want you to see the better parts of me Q, you deserve to see the better parts of me…"

And yeah, she totally does. 

She pulls back and her eyes are wet but she's smiling and you want her.   
So once again you lean down but this time you capture the full weight of her right breast in your hand, as you catch her left nipple in between your lips and lap at it slowly. You are one hundred percent obsessed with her breasts, the way the fit impeccably in your hand, the way they taste, it was like you were meant to worship them.

You capture her right nipple between your fingers and roll them slowly and Quinn exhales a bit and her underwear clad center shifts lightly into yours and yup, game on bitches. You suck on her nipple and alternate between both her breasts until both nipples are stiff and peeking, and really, you could do this for hours on end, the small sounds you are garnering from Quinn are making you wet and you are practically high with lust.

She twists her hands in to your hair and pulls it out of the sloppy bun you put it in earlier and before you realize what's happening your hoodie is on the floor next to hers. 

And so is the forgotten laptop.

Her hands are instantaneously on your breasts, prodding, cupping, grasping and messaging them, and although her surprisingly skilled hands threw you off for a blissful second, you are a woman with a plan, so you swat her hands away as kindly as you can, and pull her flush against your body.

The skin on skin contact gives you both a pause, because dios, her nipples hard and taught against your nipples and the swell of her full breasts against yours – Yeah, that feeling never gets old. You bite lightly at her neck and suck on it with zeal as her hands find purchase in your hair and she tosses her head back with a breathy moan.

You continue lavishing her neck as both your hands descend down her body and as one hand slips under her panties to grab her firm and delicious ass, the other cups her through the wet material.

She bucks into your hand, probably searching for some kind of friction as you rub her lightly not giving in to her bodily pleas, but you help her surge forward nonetheless with the hand on her ass, squeezing and encouraging.

You find her clit through her panties - swollen and wet and you fight to stretch this out as long as you can. 

Her hips are humping your hand basically and you love every second of it.

While she is being all pressing and urgent, you are taking your time with her as you suck leisurely on her collar bones, leaving small red marks in your wake.

"San… P-please… more."

And she doesn't need to beg or ask twice when you swiftly move the fabric of her panties aside and find her clit that is wet and swollen and hella sensitive. 

You run your fingers up and down her slit, teasing her entrance lightly.

You kiss her as you enter her with one finger, relishing in feeling of her walls fluttering around your finger warm and wet, as you rub slow tight circles around her clit with your thumb. 

She is moving her hips with your slow thrusts as you add another finger. She exhales shakily into the kiss as you do your best with the angle you're in to go as deep as you can inside of her.

You remove your other hand from her ass and wrap your arm around her warm body to pull her flush against you again. She leans her forehead against your temple as she picks up the pace of her thrusting hips against your fingers.

Surreptitiously, you think this could be a great opportunity to make some sort of lascivious remark about her riding your fingers but today isn't about that at all, so you hold your tongue and hold her even tighter as you alternate the pressure on her clit and scissor your fingers inside her, opening her up a bit and going as deep as you can.

Her breathy moans turn into delicate whines, your name falling scarcely from her lips and intertwining with said whines, and her breath is hitching as you feel her walls tighten around your fingers. You stay persistent with your thrusts until her body goes taut and all the air leaves her body as her inner walls tense and close around your fingers.

Wet gooey substance drips down your hand as she comes undone and slumps into you, breathing heavily with her heart pounding so hard against her chest you can feel it pulsating against yours.

You press kisses on to the top of her head as you scoot down the bed with her seemingly boneless body. You pull you fingers out of her gently and she lets out a small whine that you can't help but smile at when you lay both of you down to the bed.

Although you are terribly turned on, you feel your body fill with some sort of calmness you haven't felt in a while. Having Quinn so open, and vulnerable, and laying between your arms is absolutely making you feel whole.

You look up to the ceiling, in your mind looking past it to the clouds, to the heavens above and send a silent nod in gratitude to Finn, for teaching you courage and honesty even when he isn't walking the face of the earth anymore.

The silence is broken by Quinn's quite whisper;

"Yes."

She is looking up at you from where she is perched against your chest, eyes shining and smile sincere and earnest.

"Yes? Yes what, Q?"

"Yes I would love to go on a date with you, and I would love to make this official."

You squeal (Yes, fucking squeal goddamn Rachel Berry for teaching you this atrocious behavior flaw) and flip her over, kiss her firmly and dive right between her legs to show your gratitude in the way you know best.

**Author's Note:**

> this story is also on ff.net, but I think AO3 is a lot more friendlier to use. So, this will probably have two more parts too it, but for now enjoy some Quinntana.


End file.
